JEFF BECK - Bass, Guitar, Sound Effects, Special Effects
Jan Hammer Group:
JAN HAMMER - Synthesizer, Percussion, Piano, Drums, Keyboards, Electric
Piano, Timbales, Vocals, Moog Synthesizer, Engineer, Performer, Remixing
STEVE KINDLER - Synthesizer, Guitar, Violin, Rhythm Guitar
FREEMAN - Electric Piano, Timbales, Vocals, Moog Synthesizer
FERNANDO SAUNDERS - Bass, Guitar, Rhythm Guitar, Vocals, Harmony Vocals
TONY SMITH - Drums, Vocals
DENNIS WEINREICH - Engineer
TOM WERMAN - Executive Producer
DENNIS WEINRICH - Engineer, Remixing
MARK WILDER - Digital Remastering for CD
JOHN BERG - Cover Design
LARRY YELEN - Cover Photography
HUE AND EYE - Back Photography
JOYCE MCGREGOR - Lettering
1977 LP Epic 34433
1977 CD Arista ESCA5069
1976 CD Epic EK-34433
1976 CD Epic PE 34433
1977 LP Epic 34433
1977 CD Epic OE 34438
1977 CS Epic 34422
1991 CD Epic 34433
1976 CS Epic PET-34433
Jeff Beck toured to promote Wired, backed by a jazz-fusion group led by
synthesizer player Jan Hammer. This straightforward live souvenir
combines songs from Blow by Blow and Wired, plus a few other things,
and while it features typically fiery playing from Beck, the backup is
a bit too heavy-handed and the occasional vocals (by Hammer and drummer
Tony Smith) are embarrassing.
In 1969, Miles Davis was looking for a way to sell more albums. So the
jazz trumpeter delved into rock and R&B on Bitches Brew. When his
record sales promptly increased, fusion was born.
Eight years later, the genre is having an identity crisis. Once,
pegging fusion was easy: it was the rigorously creative effort of Miles
Davis, his former sidemen (Tony Williams, John McLaughlin, Herbie
Hancock, Josef Zawinul and Wayne Shorter) and a San Francisco-based
band, the Fourth Way, led by pianist Mike Nock. These days, though,
fusion has diffused; within its extremes of thoughtless, schlocky
grafting (e.g., Stanley Turrentine over strings and a funky drummer)
and "serious," often ponderous composition and orchestration (the ECM
school), there's mostly unfocused music.
Fusion musicians don't seem to be bothered. For most of them, "fusion"
is simply a marketing tool, a convenient critical invention, nothing
real enough to have actual implications. Which makes sense, considering
the form began less as an art than as a way to make money, and
continues in this reactionary vein: the music Davis created was still
way above the common denominator so, many exjazzmen, seizing their big
chance to stop scuffling, have eagerly gone more reactionary. (Also,
because they are almost exclusively tied to major commercial labels,
fusioneers constantly risk being told their work's not marketable
enough, a kind of pressure that doesn't aid artistic surety.)
Worse, many fusion players embrace diffusion, claiming that
labels—like "fusion"—only inhibit artistic conception.
Well, it's true much of the best fusion was made when the genre was too
young to be called anything. But it's also true that much subsequent
fusion music pales in comparison, as even those who make it admit.
Maybe, in this case, freedom spells flaccidity. And maybe a refocusing
of the genre, a turn back to the beginning, is in order.
To my ears, Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy, by Chick Corea and Return to
Forever, has "heightening" and "tension and release," the key elements
of fusion quality, in spades. Every cut proceeds as a series of small,
jazz-based structural twists—time stops, coyly repeated riffs,
the rhythm section dropping out momentarily, the melody changing
completely and abruptly. And each twist intensifies the album's
constant rock-infused energy, setting it up tensely, letting it go,
more so than if a rock band just laid out the same feeling without
embellishment. The result is heightened rock — speaking purely
musically, since fusion's lack of lyrics deprives it of a dramaturgy.
But, using similar instrumentation, fusion records give us varying
numbers of aural climaxes per song, while ZZ Top and James Brown get us
off only once. (And in other ways, of course, fusion is also heightened
jazz.)
Sad to say, RTF's subsequent LPs became so contrived in this direction
they lost spontaneity, as did most other fusion artists. After The
Inner Mounting Flame, the Mahavishnu Orchestra became arty and
mystical; after the first cut of Spectrum, Billy Cobham became aimless.
On Headhunters, Herbie Hancock heightened funk; on the albums that
followed, he mined it dry. Finally, in the void, Jeff Beck emerged with
Wired, which captured the spirit of Hymn
but—ironically—from the rock perspective. Of course, Beck's
chops aren't that incisive in relationship to jazz-based form, so the
charts were simple compared to Corea's—whose wouldn't be? The
point was that Jan Hammer's cranked-up Moog and Beck's raving guitar,
given even a taste of fusion's structure, turned especially kickass.
Yet Live joins all the other fusion busts. It lacks energy, perhaps
because the four direct Narada Michael Walden tunes that worked so well
on Wired are replaced by Hammer charts; maybe, too, because Beck
doesn't respond as well when the going becomes more complex. But
someone, whether it was Beck or Hammer (who produced), just chose the
wrong tapes. Instead of the night of shrieking, wailing and ripping I
heard in New York, we get singing, sound effects, voice-bag tricks and
a general aura of gimmickry.
Which leads us to the Brecker Brothers. Horn bands can especially
heighten funk; in their few concert appearances, the Breckers have
excited people with punchy little bursts and razor-sharp turns.
Additionally, their writing is already marked by an abundance of
stop-on-a-dime tricks, breeding grounds for tension and release. Yet
their last two LPs contain much uneventful, if commercial, music. I
wonder why they don't try harder to make some memorable mass-audience
fusion, based on the horn-band experience. Maybe their distinctive
musicality, feeling and humor as purer jazz players gets in the way; it
carries Don't Stop.
More disturbingly, fusion has developed a "serious" school, involving
many somniferous ECM artists as well as some of the ex-Davis players,
including former RTF drummer Lenny White. White's two albums are
classy, thoughtful packages, extremely confident and competent. But
White, fond of writing suites in emulation of classical composers,
continues to ignore his real strength, which is fusion-funk. For
example, the first two cuts on Venusian Summer, his first album, play
uniquely with pulse, accenting it contrapuntally with gritty organ
fills so it moves slicker than any backbeat. On Big City, the final
track—a jam featuring Brian Auger and guitarists Ray Gomez and
Neil Schon—has a smoking beginning but ends after seven minutes
with a too ethereal Bennie Maupin soprano solo. It doesn't
build—through horn fills, more guitar battling, drum-keyboard
tradeoffs—as it should. Elsewhere on this highly eclectic record,
there's an overwhelming precision of "creativity" that's enervating. I
wish White would play funk and leave worrying about Varese to musicians
who record in Oslo.
Somewhat sadly, the best record of the four reviewed here is by the
least talented artist. But Lonnie Liston Smith, another ex-Miles
sideman, avoids pretension and understands tension (not to mention
release). The result is a totally unified, original approach to fusion.
Once an angular, modal piano stylist, Smith now writes soft R&B
tunes that rely on the whimsical beauty of minor-key chordal
situations. (On Renaissance, they're especially enhanced by veteran
arranger Horace Ott.) Beneath Smith's melodies chug vaguely danceable
beats; the juxtaposition creates its own kind of heightening. On
"Starlight and You," Smith's brother Donald contributes a stylish yet
poignant near-falsetto vocal; while we soar on the bliss of his cool
effort, Lonnie intensifies our feeling with some in-the-groove piano
comping. Its structure showcases the tension-funk and lets it go, ever
so slowly.
Fusion needs to become more aware of its strengths. While some may
claim that artists can't become sufficiently detached from their music
to regard what makes it tick, mature artists at least have a sense of
their medium's boundaries and challenges. In that sense, unfortunately,
most fusion musicians are still immature. (RS 241)
MICHAEL ROZEK - Rolling Stone
I agree with earlier review of Hammer trying to outdo Beck
It is a well done fusion recording that should have been labled the
"Jan Hammer group live" because, with the exception of 'freeway jam',
Jeff Beck is basically a side guitarist.
Thus if you are looking for the live equivilant of 'Blow by blow' or "Wired', look elsewere.
Pitty they don't remix this recording and increase the volume of the guitar playing and decrease the volume of the keyboards.
If they did, then it would probably be worthy of of trying to sell the recording with the Jeff Beck name attached to it.
S M , April 16, 2000
Stunning live jam....
This album has some of the most incredible live guitar playing I have
ever experienced. The jamming between Jeff and Jan is beyond words. The
solos by Jeff on Freeway Jam, Blue Wind and Earth will never be matched
in a live situation for ingenuity, gut feel, sonic boom tonal purity
and for pulling every last sound out of a Stratocaster. I listen to all
types of music and all types of guitarists, but this album displays the
electric guitar and amplifier in a manner that goes beyond hearing,
it's surreal......
Gary Hostetler (glh@ipass.net) from Raleigh, NC , July 15, 1999
Serious Beck/Hammer Fan(s) Fare
I confess this is a sentimantal favorite and not quite what you might
expect or demand from the pinnacle that is 70s-era Beck, but still WELL
worth the buy. Hammer's "Darkness/Earth" is a fantastically done Hammer
track (and one of my all-time favorite live tunes)...followed by "Air
Blower/Scatterbrain," one of my all-time favorite Beck song(s) which is
done surprising justice, and frankly better than I would have expected
in a live session (any guitarist who has tried to play Scatterbrain
will probably tell you it's not exactly "Little Brown Jug"). In short,
if you like 70s era fusion/rock (and Beck and/or Hammer especially),
you should really enjoy this...just don't expect (for the most part) to
be knocked out.
BR , April 5, 2001
Good live disc...
If I could give it 3.5 stars I would, but I can't, so I'll give it 3.
Here's the track analysis: Freeway Jam: This is probably the best song
on the album, a good 6 minutes or so of soloing from both Jeff and Jan.
Earth (Still Our Only Home): Jeff has a cool part in this song, but the
singing is horrible. I can't bear to listen to the singing. Cover your
ears. She's a Woman: This version of She's a Woman is very "ska-ed"
out, but nonetheless, a pleasure to listen to. Jeff doesn't use the
voicebag quite as much as on the album version. Full Moon Boogie: This
is a cool song, and the singing isn't quite as bad as on Earth. Jeff
pulls out the voicebag again for this song. Jeff is obviously the star
of this one. Darkness/Earth in Search of a Sun: Jan really rips out his
bag of tricks for this one, and Jeff doesn't have as big of a part. Jan
has a solo for the first 2-3 minutes of the song, give it a listen, you
might like it. Scatterbrain: Not as good as the album version (as
stated in another review), but nonetheless it is pretty cool. Blue
Wind: Jeff really attacks his guitar on this one. A good, tight
performance too. Sometimes, however, it is hard to tell when Jeff is
playing and when Jan is, their instruments sound almost identical.
Overall, it is definatley worth 10 bucks, and I wish I could give it
3.5 stars, but I'll settle for 3. Had there have been better singing,
the album would probably get 4 stars, but at points the singing is
really horrible. Aside from that, it's a solid effort and a good buy.